Is it just me that finds it increasingly hard to get excited about Doctor Who?
It can’t be my age. Ian Levine is 175 and still getting sweaty with anticipation every Saturday night, but as Moffat enters his second term as headmaster at St Borusa’s Comprehensive there’s just an overall lack of drive to be sat in front of the television at 6pm (O.N.O.) on a Saturday night. And I don’t just mean because of that bloody animatronic rabbit that’s on before it.
“Doctor Who and The Pirates From Mars: The Sands Of Time: The Curse Of The Black Pearl: LeChuck’s Revenge” falls into the now traditional ‘third episode = light-hearted nonsense’ model set by “Victory Of The Daleks”, “School Reunion” and “Terror Of The Vervoids”. Indeed I joked to my girlfriend when I realised that I’d miss the start of this episode that I could probably do a fair guess at the contents. She said “go on then”. So I said “fine”.
